us voice,
but with the precision of a machine:--"One million, eighty-two thousand,
nine hundred and forty-three, in Canada, by the census of 1870; one
million, one hundred and ten thousand, in Canada, by the computation of
the Abbe Zero; four hundred and thirty-five thousand in the United
States by the computation of the same."

The Ontarian was surprised at his odd, machine-like accuracy, but
Haviland only laughed a little chuckle and Chrysler's glance was drawn
away towards a figure entering the gate, walking abstractedly, his hands
in his hip pockets and eyes on the path. He was of slender but agile
person, the decision which marked every movement showing his
consciousness of latent activity. Haviland espied him presently:

"Bravo, here is Quinet. Quinet, what are you doing?"

"Cultivating dulness," replied the figure, scarcely glancing up.

"Come and cultivate us, for a contrast, my friend."

"Would I be changing occupation?"

"Sit here and we will show you. Yourself may be as dull as you like."

The stranger, nonchalantly, and half-defiantly, seated himself, after
introduction. Chrysler scanned him curiously in recollection of the
references to him in Haviland's Book of Enthusiasms, and recognized the
strange red-brown scale of hues of hair, eyebrows and moustache, which
gave character to his appearance; but the pale countenance was strong
now, and tanned, though spare, and all the signs of former weakness had
departed.

Chamilly continued to Chrysler:

"I am not a little proud of the cheerfulness, the spirit, the
respectability, the intelligence of my little people. And if you had
seen the mottoes which I have read on cars and banners in the
processions of our national saint; such as, "GOD HAS MADE LAW TO EVERY
MAN TO LABOR," and: "TO MAKE THE PEOPLE BETTER,"--you would have felt
with me that it must be a people responsive to sober and admirable
aims."

"I have no doubt of it," remarked the visitor genially.

"But I scarcely think you can be familiar with a group of startling
projects lately cherished in our circles."

"Plots against everybody," Quinet remarked. "Have the goodness to pass
me the asparagus."

"The Continent of North America is a large acre," continued Haviland.
"Can you fancy a race who a century ago were but ninety thousand,
aspiring and actually planning for its complete control?"

Chrysler looked amused at the idea, for the handful of French-Canadians.

"That is our firmly-per